


Tales from America

by chancetherappa



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, Kuroo and Bokuto are bros, Mentions of alcohol, but i mean whats new, kuroo is an excellent story teller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 13:56:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8581162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chancetherappa/pseuds/chancetherappa
Summary: It's Kuroo Tetsurou's birthday, and the squad gathers around to hear him tell yet another story from his life.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Salt and Pepper Diner](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/260903) by John Mulaney. 



“Alright, alright, I’ll tell the story,” Kuroo said as his friends surrounded him and asked him to talk. He stood up from the table at the Irish pub and raised his pint in the air, taking a gulp of his beer and setting it back on the wooden surface below his hips. The people surrounding him consisted of past teammates, friends from high school, and, of course, his best friend since they were in pre-school, Bokuto Koutarou, all gathered around to celebrate his twenty-third birthday. Bokuto knew this story so well he could tell it himself; after all, he was there. The owlish man locked eyes with Kuroo and then smirked, nodding his head as his teeth shone. Huffing a laugh, the catlike man began his story.

“Alright so when I was like, eleven maybe? In junior high still, Bokuto and I were at the same school. Anyway, we were invited on this trip to America over the summer for volleyball, right? We played some pretty amazing teams there. But that wasn’t the highlight of the trip. We were in uh, Chicago, I think was the name of the city; it was very far inland. And we stopped for dinner one night--this ended up being the best meal I’ve ever had--at this place called the Salt and Pepper Diner. It seemed to be this, like, family restaurant in America, and Bo and I determined that it mainly catered to unsupervised teenagers and homeless schizophrenics.” He paused as the guys laughed.

“But, seriously, we went in there, and there was this jukebox there, right? The place had a very real ’50s vibe going for it. So, Bo and I went over to it and it said that it was three plays for a dollar. So we put in seven dollars, and selected twenty-one plays of Tom Jones’ ‘What’s New Pussy Cat?’”

That seemed to get a kick out of the crowd. At this point, some people from other tables had leaned over and started listening in. 

“And then we ordered and waited.

“Here’s the thing about when ‘What’s New Pussy Cat?’ gets played over and over and over again. The first time it repeats you’re not thinking, ‘Hey, someone’s playing “What’s New Pussy Cat?” again.’ You’re thinking, ‘Hey, “What’s New Pussy Cat?” is a lot _longer_ than I first thought.’ And it has like, a dip in the middle, like Guns ‘N’ Roses’ ‘November Rain.’ You’re like, ‘Oh, “November Rain” is over!’ No it’s not. There’s more. So, the third time, you’re like, ‘Maybe someone’s playing “What’s New Pussy Cat?” again.’ The fourth time you’re thinking, ‘ _Whoa._ Someone just played “What’s New Pussy Cat?” _four times_ , or at least, they played it _twice_ , and it’s a _really long song_.

“So, the _fifth time_ is the kicker, alright? And Bo and I, we’re just sitting at this table in the back watching the entire diner, I mean, our teammates knew we were gonna pull these shenanigans but the Americans in the diner didn’t, okay?

“And there’s this one guy who’s sitting in a booth with his stupid kids jumping up and down; I was pretty sure he’s been onto us since the beginning, and he’s got a cup of coffee. And he’s shaking like, ahh, like he just got his thirty-day chip from anger management. And so, the fifth ‘What’s New Pussy Cat?’ fades out. It’s dead quiet. And I don’t know if you know this, but ‘What’s New Pussy Cat?’ begins very subtly… _waaaaah, waaah, what’s new, pussy cat?_ And the guy goes ‘ _Goddammit!_ ’ and he pounds his fist on the table, and silverware flies everywhere, and it was _fan-tastic_.” Kuroo could see Bokuto snickering in the corner of the booth behind his hand.

“But a word about my best friend Bo and what a genius he is. Back when we had just walked up to the jukebox, and I’m punching in the ‘What’s New Pussy Cat?’s, Bo taps me on the shoulder and says ‘Hey, hey, hey. Before you drop in another “What’s New Pussy Cat?”, let’s drop in _one_ “It’s Not Unusual.”’ And that was when the evening went from good to great. 

“After seven ‘What’s New Pussy Cat?’s, in a row--it played _seven times--_ suddenly, _dum, da dum, dum, da dum, it’s not unusual~_ and the _sigh_ of _relief_ that swept through the diner. People were so happy! It was like the liberation of France!

“Y’know, for _years_ , scientists have wondered, can you make grown men and women cry by playing Tom Jones’ ‘It’s Not Unusual’? And the answer is… _yes._ Provided that it is preceded by _seven_ ‘What’s New Pussy Cat?’s.

“And on the other hand…when we went back. Holy _shit_. ‘It’s Not Unusual’ fades out. It’s dead quiet.” Kuroo paused, taking note that the entire restaurant seemed to be in on his story at this point.

“ _Waaaaah, waaah, what’s new, pussy cat?_ People went fucking insane. No one could handle it! Not a single person could handle it! And they were surrounded by this seemingly indifferent staff that was like, ‘Yep, same shit as always!’ My only hope was that one of the schizophrenics had stood up and said, ‘Now _you_ know. Now you know what it’s like to live in _my_ brain.’

“They unplugged the jukebox after eleven plays, and _that_ was the best meal I’ve ever had.” Kuroo brought his pint to his lips, taking a sip before sitting back in his chair at the table in the pub. The whoops and whistles along with the applause from the entire restaurant and Bokuto’s hooting laughter brought this one to a close second place.

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday, kuroo :) come hang out, i'm on tumblr as @haniltin-writes


End file.
